


A Little Piece of Home

by AgingPhangirl (Madophelia)



Series: Trope-a-Dope [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Cuddles, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Moving House, Showers, fluffy fluff, goodbye London flat 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 09:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10739373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madophelia/pseuds/AgingPhangirl
Summary: Until Dan and Phil can make the new place theirs, its still different and unfamiliar. For now, they’ll just have to be each other’s little piece of home.





	A Little Piece of Home

**Author's Note:**

> So I was all set to be writing my usual angst. I called for inspiration from the universe and Dan responded by posting a picture in the new flat and completely derailed me. What happened next was this. 
> 
> As a side note, I wrote this very quickly and it hasn’t been edited so I apologise for any errors. I just have a lot of feelings.

Dan’s arm hurts. He hopes he hasn’t actually pulled anything, is pretty sure that he hasn’t, but still, it’s twinging as he rotates his shoulder. It was the last box that did it, hauling it up and onto the counter top had been a little ambitious considering it contained a large amount of tightly wrapped flatware. He tugged at one end of the tape, digging through it to try and locate a glass but alas, only plates.

“Phil!” he shouts, revelling in the way his voice sounds in the new space. It is unfamiliar, strange and exciting. It doesn’t reverberate in the same way, it’s louder, echoing, bouncing back between himself and the empty space, not yet arranged the way they wanted it. “Phil which box are the glasses in?”

“The one in the--” Phil says, rounding the corner. His hair is pushed back, he’s dishevelled and bespectacled and looks about as tired as Dan feel. “Oh.”

“We should have written more than the room on the boxes,” Dan observes, looking expectantly at the box before him as if he could change the contents just by willing it.

“Probably.”

“I can’t be bothered to do anything else,” Dan sighs, moving forward to drop his forehead on Phil’s bicep. “Can we be finished for tonight?”

“We haven’t put the bed up.” Phil notes.

“Ugh. No.” Dan says, sliding his aching arm around Phil’s waist, pressing softly into the warmth of him. They were both slightly sweaty, but Dan didn’t mind too much. “I can’t do that right now. All I want to do is shower and curl up with you, please?”

“I think the blow-up and electric pump is in the living room” Phil says, hooking an arm around Dan’s shoulders and rubbing as though he can read Dan’s mind about how it is hurting.

Dan hums, letting his eyes slip shut.

“How about I go blow it up, you order takeaway, and then we can shower while we wait for it?” Phil suggests.

“That sounds like a proposition,” Dan says, crooking a lazy eyebrow while a slight yawn escapes him.

“Might be,” Phil says, moving Dan away with gentle hands, too tired to hold him up much longer, “We’ll have to christen the shower sometime.”

“Okay,” Dan says, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Good job there’s signal.”

“Wifi is being fitted at the end of the week,” Phil says, “Earliest they could do, they didn’t want to come until next week but I convinced them.”

“I know,” Dan smiles, “I knew you could charm them.”

“Still don’t know why I had to phone them.”

“Phil, I literally did everything else.” He’s exasperated but fond, rolling his eyes at Phil’s telephone aversion.

Phil just grins and moves out of the kitchen. They don’t have to squeeze past each other, there’s space that he can move away without the need to touch. He does anyway, trailing fingers down Dan’s arm.

Dan orders pizza on the app on his phone. Settling for Domino’s because there is always one that will deliver. They’ll scout out the local takeaways another day. There is enough new for tonight, they need the comfort of their usual order.

When he’s finished he exits the kitchen to find Phil walking towards him with towels slung over his arm.

“Come on” he says, turning Dan by the shoulder, squeezing gently on the aching muscle, “Shower time.”

They step under the spray in their pristine white bathroom. Glass shower door and mirrors gleaming in that way that only brand new fittings can. It’s modern and minimalist and Dan appreciates the aesthetic of the dark grey tiles. It’s clear and spacious for the moment, not yet cluttered with their possessions. It doesn’t look like it belongs to them yet, but it won’t be long.

It turns out they are too tired to do much else but cling to each other, letting the hot water soothe their tired bodies. They kiss lazily, smiling into each other’s mouths and running hands over slippery skin. It’s nice to take a moment, loving and quiet, just to share this new space and all the possibilities it brings. It’s innocent for the moment, the heat will come later.

They step out of the shower 30 minutes later. They towel off and Dan is checking the progress of their order on his phone when Phil drops a kiss to his shoulder, cold droplets of water dripping from his fringe to run quickly over Dan’s collarbone.

“It’s nearly here.” Dan says, turning in Phil’s space to thread an arm around him. They stand still for a moment, pressed against each other as if they hadn’t been doing the same thing for the last half hour.

“Come on,” Phil whispers in Dan’s ear, “Get dressed. You’ll freeze.”

Dan grumbles slightly but moves away. Thank goodness they’d thought to pack clothes into suitcases so they are easily obtained. They shuffle into Pyjamas, rubbing the towels on their hair so that it is still damp and unruly but no longer dripping.

Dan’s hair is curlier than it will be when it dries and Phil smiles fondly as Dan runs a hand through it to flatten it slightly.

The sound of their new doorbell echoes through the flat and they both startle. Just because the noise is new, they aren’t yet used to it, but they know they will be soon.

“I’ll go,” Dan says, heaving himself to the door of the bedroom.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Dan nods, “but remember this moment next time you don’t want to get up for the postman at 7am.”

Phil laughs, “I will.”

He doesn’t have to go down four flights of stairs so he has the hot boxes of pizza in his hands within minutes, bag with a drink and dips swinging from his wrist.

“Well that was novel,” Dan says coming through to the living room, “I didn’t get out of breath coming back from the front door or anyth--”

He stops dead on the threshold and lets his mouth fall open.

Their new living room is bathed in soft, golden light. It flickers on their new walls, adding dimensions and cosiness to a space they have not yet made theirs.

Phil has set the blow up mattress between a collection of boxes. It is piled high with blankets, the string of fairy lights from Dan’s old bedroom and their Tetris lights are plugged in and strung across the top, giving the whole thing a starry ceiling.

On another few boxes Phil has fished out candles, the ones in glass jars, and they flicker softly.

“You made us a fort.” Dan breathes, affection dripping through every word.

“I made us a den.” Phil corrects, moving to take the pizza from Dan’s grip.

“It’s wonderful.”

Phil sets the pizza near their the entrance to their safe haven and stands to kiss Dan softly.

“You’re wonderful.”

“Sap.”

“You love it.”

Dan reaches up to thread a hand into the back of Phil’s hair. It’s still damp and it curls around his fingers, clinging to his skin.

“I love you,” Dan croaks, ignoring how choked up he sounds. “This is perfect. You’re perfect. We’re going to be so happy here.”

Phil slips his hands around Dan’s waist and pulls him closer again. No matter how many times he’s done this in the past 8 years, no matter how many times he’ll continue to do this over the rest of their lives, it will always make him sigh contently to hold this love close.

“I love you too,” he smiles, “And I’m already pretty damn happy here.”

“Me too.”

“I’d be happy wherever you are.”

They don’t say any more, but they do press their mouths together. It’s tender, soft and practised. A familiar sensation in this otherwise new space.

They eat pizza, like they always do. And they crawl into their blankets under the glow of the fairy lights and tangle their legs together like they always do. They say a silent goodnight with a gentle kiss to a shoulder blade like they always do. Because sometimes you need a little bit of the familiar, a little bit of home.

The sheets smell the same, and Phil’s body feels the same, but the rest is new. Phil is his little slice of home, and until they make this space their own, they have each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://agingphangirl.tumblr.com) and talk to me about them moving, because I'm very emotional about it.


End file.
